The other highlight of Euro-Homercon for me (besides the bleating sheep and Japanese military disaster) was the first public unveiling of my secret mini-game release for this year-- Circus Minimus. While I had been working on this (behind the scenes in little fits and starts for a couple of years now), this was the first set of playings running a large number of real wargamers as the players. The results blew me away.

Frankly, I have never had any of my gaming creations generate so much wild enthusiasm and desire to replay as this little game did. Guys really got into it and the chants of "Hard Whip!" and "Skid!!" were loud enough and often enough to cause others in the hall to chant them back at us. Beyond that, I never had to convince anyone to play the game--I'd turn my back for a minute to find another group pulling the thing out so as to start another game. It was amazing--almost scary--but very rewarding.

Circus Minimus is a straightforward chariot racing game that (obviously) has its roots in the old Avalon Hill game Circus Maximus (C-Max). I was introduced to C-Max at a Homercon a few years ago by Dan Cicero. I had never played it nor even seen it played before (OK, so I lead a sheltered life...). The game was fun and it certainly seemed that the other players were enjoying it, but some of the features there just didn't sit well with me. The process by which ramming took place was so involved that Dan had to put together a flow chart (pieced together from sections scattered all through the rules) so players could figure it out. Physics in the C-Max world seemed, well, odd. Acceleration and deceleration occurred instantly and did not come with any downside. The lanes themselves forced specific speeds on the teams (as if they were in some kind of orbital track) and there was no ability to swing wide during a turn to avoid making a too-tight turn, as skids were determined based on where you were on the track with respect to your speed--not the actual radius of the turn you were trying to make. There was much work involved in setting up your teams and plotting moves before play--much of which seemed to have little or no actual effect.

In the end, here was a reasonably fun game that was fun in spite of its rules and systems, not enhanced by them. While guys could certainly manage to enjoy the game (and many do, don't get me wrong), they must overcome the system to get that enjoyment; having a gamemaster run it for them helps greatly as that frees the regular player from having to work the mechanics of the game.

I told Dan that there had to be a better way and set about putting my money where my mouth was.

The first step in the process was to really learn C-Max. I bought a copy and began to play it with my kids (they served as guinea-pigs through most of this). At first I played it straight and struggled with the systems I already knew I didn't particularly like just to see what it was they were trying to do. As time went on, I modified the base rules just to drop some of the most onerous mechanics. It was frustrating, but it showed to me that I was right--there was a better way to do this.

As most of you know, my ACM miniatures game (available free at the website) uses a concept I call "Design for Control" (no relation to the "Design for Effect"/"Design for Process" arguments heard elsewhere). The idea was to give the player a set number of control inputs to make which would cause sub-systems to function automatically and then be translated into the results those inputs would have given in real life (or a close approximation). In ACM the aircraft controls of stick, rudder, and throttle do the job of input and the spreadsheet spits out the relevant aircraft position and status information based on those inputs, the old status, and the aircraft's performance data.

I decided to apply this concept to the little chariot game I was messing with. In a very short period, I put together a control system aiming at simplicity (the player is really only controlling speed at this level) and the races began.

The Chariot Control (each player has one) serves the dual function of tracking this control and status information while at the same time forcing the player to intuitively follow the turn sequence. If the player follows the Roman Numerals on the Chariot Control, he need not even know what the turn sequence is (it will just happen to him). First, he adds (or deletes) any fatigue points based on his speed last turn. Next, he adjusts that speed based on the current fatigue and chariot damage. From that location, speed is then ratcheted down one for each Turn Marker he accumulated last turn (the turn markers are then removed). Lastly, he sets his control to the position desired (ranging from Hard Whip to Brake). That finished, he moves his chariot based on the final speed, does whatever turns or swerves he wants and can attack the other players (much of the fun is in that).

The game slowly percolated until sometime last year when I decided to go ahead with actually releasing it. I contracted David Pentland (who's artwork you've seen on a number of our boxes) to do a chariot race track background for the map and to do the teams and chariots for the counters. I was awestruck by the stadium he did for this game--it was wonderful as a work of art (given the shadows, detail, and perspectives involved). I anticipated release later in 2000.

Euro-Homercon changed that. The reception was so overwhelmingly positive and enthusiastic, I decided to bump the game up from late in the year to September so that UGG could carry the game at Essen. The counters were already at the printer, the map was done (but not yet sent to the printer), the rules needed illustrations and a thorough edit so as to be accessible by normal people (not just wargamers). A little re-shuffling of priorities was all that was needed to trim a few months off the schedule.

Proud

I'm very proud of this little game. I don't think I successfully completed any race at Euro-Homercon (no, I'm not paranoid, they were out to get me!) but I still had a blast each time. More than once I was dragged in back of my chariot and cut myself loose only to get run over by some bloodthirsty Spaniard or other (thanks, Ernesto, I'll be sure to remember it!). At least once I was given another guy's chariot (who had to go eat or something) only to get creamed in a turn or so and end up road-kill on the track. Thankfully, I'm not bitter . . .

You could always tell when something interesting happened in the game by the volume over the table (don't play this near sleeping babies). Once I heard a chorus come up while outside the building (yes, it was that loud). On my return, I was told that one player had thrown his net at another knocking him off his chariot. The guy on the track had just freed himself from the net when he went under another guys hooves. The unmanned chariot continued down the track where the player who had thrown the net in the first place managed to run along side and jump aboard to take that one over (it had less fatigue and/or damage than his own). Quite a sight.

It was only in the later games that I introduced the concept of purchasing extra equipment, weapons, and things to these guys. Each player is allowed to spend three coins before play to buy things like extra whips, swords, slings, nets, potions to drug another guy's horses, favors from the gods, and so on. Part of the game is the race, another part is the "cheating" to win it. Personally, I like to buy an extra whip in case I lose mine somehow and (as Udo found out) "Reins Suck!" when he lost his whip and had no spare. Not the fastest way around the track! In another playing, one player purchased a war chariot so he could more successfully ram others. All well and good except that he chose to ram every chance he could right out of the starting gate. Each one of these rammings (basically swerves that don't go anywhere) generated a Turn Chit. The accumulated Turn Chits slowed him greatly in the next few moves forcing him to Hard Whip to keep up (each time generating more fatigue). This spiral continued until he couldn't keep up with the pack anymore. The game is one of energy management . . . unfortunately, this player went away feeling his war chariot did him in. I believe it was a matter of how he handled it (excessive attacks) that got him.

Two features of C-Max really struck me. The chariots moved so fast down the track, the distances between them rapidly put an end to any sense of being in a pack where space issues were critical. Also, once this effect became apparent, another reared its head--once established out in front, the leader had little or nothing to do but wait until he won. To counter this, C-Max players came up with the unusual technique of having the last guy in the pack quit the race and wait for the leader to come around again so as to attack him. I countered the first tendency by making the speeds more limited here using speeds of about 7 rather than 18 (the raw number of spaces around the track made these values relatively similar in the number of moves to make a lap--but the chariots end up closer together so there is more interaction). For the latter effect, I added Cocky Leader and Underdog rules. Figuring that the gods like nothing better than the shaft a vain human and to support someone lagging behind but making a heroic effort, I envisioned them causing the leader's mind to wander as he savored the cheers of the crowd and waved at them (so he would not be hard whipping anymore) if he was far enough in front to feel "safe." Likewise, the gods would give a minor boost the guy in the back of the pack who was making the effort to catch up. These put together keep everyone (who isn't dead) in the race, rather than having it be fun for some guys but not for others who already know they can't win.

Circus Minimus can be played with any number of players (the more the merrier) but the basic counter set supplies up to seven. I've played it with kids as young as six (though they need help actually doing what they think they want) and non-wargamers. I've found so far that playing with wargamers is the most fun as they have long since gotten beyond being worried about being "unfair" to the other players by being mean to them, playing dirty tricks, making attacks, and trying to knock them out of the race. By the same token, the wargamers took it better when they were knocked off their chariot or attacked by another. A non-wargamer with a bum chariot gets depressed and thinks all is lost; the wargamer starts looking around for another's chariot (so he can steal it and get back into the race). Different personalities!

In the end Circus Minimus lives up to its name--a chariot race game that allows all the track action with an absolute minimum of rules overhead and fuss. I hope you try it and like it. Until next time, "Hard Whip!"